


The Pleasant Misuse of Sashes

by nerdqueenmari



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M, more shameless smut, shrug emoji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 21:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11563923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenmari/pseuds/nerdqueenmari
Summary: #Like It Says on the Package





	The Pleasant Misuse of Sashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [broadside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadside/gifts).



Things just have a habit of escalating between them. One second, they’ll be chatting congenially, the next they’ll be sniping at each other, and then from there, well. It usually ends in her bed, although the table, the kitchen counter, the couch, and the living room floor (for some reason) have all seen their fair share of skin since this whole thing started.

Not that she’s exactly complaining, but still, this time, things seem to have escalated to a new height. Again; not that she’s  _ complaining _ that this time, he has her pinned against the wall with her hands behind her back, bound together with his sash (which he only got back because he was quick enough to grab it when she snapped it at him - damn him and his reflexes). No, she’s certainly not complaining, she couldn't possibly, not while her whole body yearns for his touch.

He is, of course, only providing the slightest bit of cooperation in that regard. A light kiss on her neck, fingers softly tracing circles around her nipples, and one leg against the wall, between hers.

It’s so much worse when he’s gentle. When they’re taking their time, and they both let their guards down just a little. Like this, he stirs up feelings she’s not quite ready for. She can’t resist, which she  _ hates _ , but she also doesn’t want to (which she also  _ hates _ ). She only hopes he doesn’t actually realize the extent to which the feeling of his lips against her jaw and his hands sliding her dress off makes her absolutely weak in the knees.

To be fair, tonight, it’s not as much sliding her dress  _ off _ so much as aside, and capitalizing on the fact that she can’t do anything to stop him taking his sweet time with the laces. She refuses,  _ refuses _ , to beg him to just stop teasing her - if she did, he’d only take even longer, because that’s how they work.  _ Hurry up _ means  _ slow down _ and  _ I hate you _ means  _ take me, I’m yours _ . It’s hard to resist, though. She has to resolutely bite her lip to keep herself present while his hands roam her body.

He is an expert at keeping her right on the edge, which she still resents, because he absolutely uses it. He’s spent what must have been  _ hours _ by now covering her neck and shoulders with scratchy kisses (beards, you know), and stroking the inside of her thighs. Always, just short of touching her  _ there _ , because that’s not how the game is played.

Her resolve is wearing thin. Across the room, the grandfather clock begins to sound - How in the world has it been only ten minutes since he pushed her against the wall? She groans and tries to catch his hand between her legs, but of course to no avail.

“Please,” she whispers. A little, but still not quite... “Please!” she repeats, louder this time; he can’t pretend not to have heard  _ that _ .

Thankfully, he doesn’t. At long last, his hand is between her legs, two fingers sliding into her wetness. She tips her head back onto his shoulder, while his lips move up to her neck, and lets out a little gasp. She tries to grind against his hand - nearly impossible when you’re being held against a wall with your wrists bound. Perhaps noting this unusual insistence (she does so like to make an attempt at coquetry), he obliges by moving faster, and she knows she’s making absolutely shameful little whimpering noises.

He bits her earlobe, eliciting a breathy moan, one that rises in urgency when he whispers, “Mags.” Always,  _ always _ , that  _ tone _ and that  _ stupid nickname _ and that little flash of anger and lust combined overwhelm her, and she thinks as she climaxes that she is entirely in too deep with him.


End file.
